


Iron & Velvet

by osunism



Series: Lightning In A Bottle [6]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5067124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osunism/pseuds/osunism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When his secret is dragged to light, Hadiza must assume responsibility.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iron & Velvet

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be part of my fic _Happenstance_ , which I decided to discontinue indefinitely. So I’ll just turn Hadiza's major decisions and turning points into little vignettes or whatever. But I wanted to highlight how she handled Blackwall's reveal.

“We will allow you to see him, Inquisitor,” the Orlesian guard’s accent made his disdain all the more poignant, “though why you would want to be near such filth is beyond me.” Hadiza leveled her gaze at the guard’s masked face.

“Then it is just as well you do not wonder at things beyond your purview.” She made her voice hard, her tone dropping the weight of her words and the threat behind them like a bolder between them. The guard, for his part, did not flinch of hesitated, and merely stood aside, allowing her entry. When Cullen opted to follow, Hadiza stopped him.

“I’m in no danger here, Commander,” she assured him, “allow me some privacy with the prisoner.” Cullen frowned, but deferred to her. They could not afford to seem divided on the issue, not with so many Orlesian eyes boring into their backsides. Hadiza made her way further into the dungeon, which was surprisingly dry, but lit sparsely with a few torches. Most of the cells were empty, but she saw echoes of previous occupants in the form of scratches along the wall, weathered stone, and filth piled in the corners. She found his cell, easily enough, situated toward the back, just out of reach of the light.

For a while, Hadiza stood in stillness, watching for movement. What little light got into his cell cast his features in harsh shadows, and she glimpsed his eyes, heavy with the weight of his guilt, his expression waiting for her judgement.

“You shouldn’t have come.” He said to her, “Tying your name to mine will only soil the Inquisition’s good name.” Hadiza narrowed her eyes, brought up her right index finger, a cast the soft, white glow of a mage-light. It flooded his cell, making him wince, and she dimmed it to a bearable brightness.

“You don’t get to decide to whom or what I yoke my Inquisition.” She told him, “You are one of ours, and as the Grand Duke has disavowed your actions, you will answer to me instead.” Blackwall looked up at her, incredulous.

“This is an Orlesian matter,” he protested, “why would they simply hand me over to you.” Hadiza found her strength in her anger.

“Because Orlais has its own mess to deal with,” her tone was biting, and the temperature in his cell dropped a few degrees, “and they want nothing more than for me to do this thing. This judging you, as I’m the only one who can right now.” Blackwall didn’t meet her eyes, made brighter and more eerie by the mage-light she held aloft in stillness. He felt ashamed to stand in her presence. She’d trusted him, and in the course of a night, all his lies had come undone.

“Thom Rainier.” Hadiza said the name he hadn’t spoken in what seemed like an eternity, “You are hereby charged with murder and falsely impersonating an authority figure. The Inquisition will take you into custody at Skyhold where you will await judgement.”

Blackwall hung his head, sighing. Hadiza didn’t wait, still too angry with him to do much else, and so she turned on her heel and left, taking the light with her, extinguishing it, and leaving him in darkness.

* * *

When they hauled him into the main hall, Blackwall noted that the light seemed different. It had been one thing, to witness the trials when he was a favored ally of the Inquisition, where the sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows seemed almost holy. It was another thing entirely to be brought before the severe throne of iron and velvet as a prisoner proper. The light felt harsh, as if it sought to burn him for his crimes, and being shoved before Hadiza, who sat in simmering fury, made him feel humbled. He was twice her age at least, but in that moment, she looked timeless, as if she had been born to sit that throne. He did not meet her eyes.

He saw the companions–those alongside whom he’d fought cheek and jowl–and was met with varying degrees of pity, disgust, and cool indifference. The Seeker–the Lady Cassandra–a true knight and hero of Thedas, gazed upon him with open contempt, her dark eyes seething. He’d find no pity there either, nor would he have accepted it. Still, to know that he had lost all of her respect and admiration in one fell swoop stung.

“Thom Rainier,” Hadiza’s voice carried over the quiet of the assembled crowd, drawing his gaze to her inexorably, “you stand before me now to face judgement for the crimes of murder and impersonating an authority figure. Have you aught to say in your defense?” The silence felt more like a palpable weight than a simple lack of sound. Blackwall didn’t dare hazard a glance at the companions, or even the advisors. He stared, instead, at Hadiza, and found nothing. She was  _The Inquisitor_ , now. He’d seen her do it before. All traces of the silly and compassionate woman who had made traveling and fighting for the greater good bearable had been scoured from her features. She was the effigy of  _judgement_. He took a deep, shuddering breath and bowed his head, the sound of his own chains answer enough.

“No, my lady,” he said quietly, “I do not.”

He caught a glimpse of Hadiza beneath the cool mask, like a cloud passing over the moon, fleeting and haunting. It was gone as soon as it had come, and Hadiza shifted in her throne.

“Very well, then.” She said at last, “For the crimes of which you have been accused, you shall face judgement. Since you were so keen on impersonating a Grey Warden, arrangements have been made for you to join them.”

There was a shocked ripple of dissent in the crowd and Hadiza’s sharp gaze quelled it along with a raised hand.

“Arrangements have also been made that once you are a Warden, then you will serve the Inquisition in whatever capacity I deem fit.” Hadiza took a sweeping glance of the assembled peerage, commonfolk, and companions. “Are there objections to be had?”

Whatever dissent had rippled through the crowd earlier, was strangely silent in the wake of her question, and satisfied, Hadiza uncrossed her knee, dropping her booted foot on the floor. It was both a judge’s gavel and her washing her hands of the matter.

“So be it. My judgement is final. Guards, escort Warden- _Select_  Blackwall to a cell to await transport. If there are no more concerns, this trial is adjourned.” Hadiza rose from her throne, “Advisors, see me in the war room immediately after. Dismissed!” As Blackwall was hauled away, Hadiza waited until the crowd dispersed, excited conversation and murmuring rising up like dust clouds in their wake. Thinner and thinner, until she stood alone on her dais, backed by her throne of iron and velvet.

The light in the main hall looked different to her too.


End file.
